Authenticity Begins With Mourning: Why You Can’t Skip the Grief of Lost Childhood

It’s a rainy afternoon and you’re curled up in your favorite chair, old photos on your lap, a mug cooling beside you. As you sift through baby pictures, pride and pain mix in your chest—a parent gazes down but the warmth you crave is missing. For years, you convinced yourself this loss didn’t matter, that strength meant moving on. But today, an unfamiliar tenderness tugs at you: maybe, instead of shrugging off longing, you could sit with it.

You write an unsent letter addressed to your childhood self, naming the distance, the need, the pain. As you write, a wave of sadness wells up—sharp as grief for someone gone. A part of you resists, worrying you’ll get stuck or spiral, but the feeling moves, and alongside it comes relief. Later, you share the letter with a therapist or a close friend. Their quiet presence helps you hold the weight without shame.

Mourning isn’t a linear process; it ebbs and flows. But every time you let yourself feel, instead of escaping into perfectionism or denial, you gain a measure of authentic aliveness. Research shows grieving denied needs enables people to shed false selves, heal from depression, and access vitality previously locked away.

Take an honest inventory of what you needed as a child but didn’t get: safety, comfort, the freedom to express all your emotions. Write a heartfelt, private letter—no editing or performing—naming these needs and how their absence made you feel. Let yourself cry, rage, or simply feel heavy. Then, share your process with someone safe or let it move through art or movement—this isn’t about wallowing but about freeing up compassion and energy buried under old grief. Try setting aside twenty minutes this week to begin. You might be surprised how much lighter you feel afterwards.